


Weasley Family Clock

by Severely_Lupine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-04
Updated: 2011-07-04
Packaged: 2017-10-21 01:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severely_Lupine/pseuds/Severely_Lupine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly doesn't know how, but the clock <i>knows</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weasley Family Clock

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anoyo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoyo/gifts).



The clock had been a wedding gift, of course.

Mother Weasley had ordered it from a specialty shop in Switzerland, or so she’d said when Molly had mentioned it on the first dinner they’d had with Arthur’s parents after returning from their honeymoon.

“We have one just like it, you know,” she’d said.  “I can’t tell you the number of hours I’ve spent ringing my hands over the old thing.  But still, better to know than not, I think.”

Molly had furrowed her brow and smiled apologetically.  “I’m sorry.  Worry about what?”

Mother Weasley had given her a shocked look, then laughed.  “You mean you haven’t sorted out what it does yet?”

“It’s a clock,” Molly had said, thinking its purpose rather obvious.  “It tells the time, doesn’t it?”

It was a fine clock, to be sure—rich, polished wood and bits of shining gold.  She’d only given it a quick once-over after unwrapping it before setting it aside.  They hadn’t had time to properly appreciate all of their gifts yet. 

Mother Weasley had laughed again.  “Oh, it does something far more important than tell time.  It tells you where your family is, every minute of every day.”

Molly had smiled politely.  “That’s lovely, Mother Weasley, but you needn’t have gone to the trouble.  Arthur and I really don’t go many places, much less without each other, aside from Arthur going to work.”

Mother Weasley had given her a knowing look.  “You may not have much use for it now.  But you will—one day.”

Molly was beginning to think that day was approaching.  

She bit her lip and looked at it again.  The hand labeled ‘Arthur’ was still pointed at ‘work’, but he’d be heading home any minute. 

She’d been cleaning all day.  The house was spotless, the yard was in order, and dinner was already set out on the table.

She looked at it again, but not at Arthur’s hand.  Her eyes narrowed.

It _knew_.

Somehow, that blasted clock _knew_.

How could it already know when she’d only found out herself that morning?

She had no idea what she’d say when Arthur got home.  Was he ready for this?  Was _she_ ready for this?  After all, they were barely out of school.  Even getting married this young felt a bit reckless, much less—

Molly turned away from the clock and started pacing.  There was so much to do, so much to get ready.  They’d need to add an extra room—not right away, but soon.  Their little one-room house simply wasn’t big enough.  Did Arthur know the spells they’d need to do it?  They hadn’t thought they’d need to deal with this sort of thing for a few years at least. 

Her heart was pounding in her chest and she couldn’t even tell if it was panic or fear or excitement or—

The door opened, making her jump. “Arthur!  You’re home!”

“Where else would I want to be?” he asked, setting his bag down and shrugging off his cloak.  He took her in his arms and pressed a kiss to her mouth.  “Hello, my love.”

“How was work?” Molly asked, fiddling with the front of Arthur’s robes.

“Terrible,” he said into her ear, evidently mistaking her nervousness for something else.  “You weren’t there.”

Molly giggled.  “Why should I be at your work?”

“I didn’t say you should.”  He held her tighter, one hand roving down to her bum.  “Just that you weren’t.”

Arthur kissed her again, more passionately, and Molly let herself indulge in his mouth. 

“We should eat dinner before it gets cold,” she said between kisses, but her fingers were already tugging at the buttons of his robes.

“Mm,” he mumbled, nuzzling her neck.  “I’d rather make a baby.”

She froze, sobering instantly.  Pushing him away gently, she said, “Actually, I’m rather hungry.  If it’s all right.”

Arthur smiled as if to say _of course it’s all right_ , then, like a switch, plopped himself down at the table and clapped his hands together.  “Well, then.  What culinary masterpiece have you got for me today, Mollywobbles?”

She rolled her eyes at the silly nickname and hoped his amusement with it would wear off soon.  “It’s from an old family recipe.”

“Again?” he asked, sounding impressed.  “What’s this, the twenty-fifth different ‘old family recipe’ in the past month?”

She winked at him.  “I do have a very old family.  You should know something about that.”

Arthur laughed heartily.  “True enough.  But my mum was never much one for cooking.”

The mention of his mother reminded Molly again of the clock, and she found herself staring at it as Arthur helped himself to the meal.

“Molly?” Arthur said, startling her again.  He looked worried.  “What’s wrong?  What are you staring at?”

“Oh,” Molly said quickly.  “Nothing.”  She started spooning her own food onto her plate, hoping to buy herself time to think of the right words.

When she looked at him again, she noticed Arthur had followed her gaze and was looking at the clock in a very suspicious way.  Before she could stop him, he stood and went over to it.

“Is something different about this clock, Molly?” he asked, something of the Ministry investigator seeping into his voice.  “It looks different somehow.”

“I haven’t done anything to it,” she answered truthfully.  She fought back an instinct to lie and hide it from him.  There was nothing shameful to be hidden, after all.

Arthur peered at the clock for several seconds, his nose inches away from the face.  “Is it my imagination, Molly, or is this clock growing another hand?”

Perhaps this wouldn’t be as difficult as she’d thought. 

“I believe it is, Arthur,” she said simply.

“How very peculiar!”  He turned to look at her.  “I wonder why it would do that.”

She got up and stood beside him, looking at the clock.  “I would think that was obvious.”

“Oh?” he said. 

She looked at him plainly, as if explaining something very simple.  “It’s a family clock, isn’t it?  It’s getting ready for the new family member.”

Arthur frowned.  “What do you mean?  Does it think we’re getting a dog?”

Molly shook her head and laughed.  “You’re completely daft, Arthur Weasley.”

His eyebrows shot up.  “What—Do you mean—Are you saying—”  He looked down at her stomach, then back to her face, as his eyes lit up like a kid’s at Christmas.  “Molly, are you—”

All her fears melted away as she saw the hope and joy in her husband’s face.  Not a moment’s hesitation or worry—just happiness.  She beamed at him.  “I’m pregnant.”

Arthur whooped and hugged her fiercely, then spun her around a few times to her delight and disorientation.  When he set her down, he kept one arm around her waist and put his other fist to his hip in a superheroish pose.

“Well,” he said, grinning like a mad cat, “looks like I’ll have to get started on those additions to the house sooner than we’d thought.”

Molly breathed a sigh of relief, her eyes straying to the clock.  She looked at the tiny nub of gold just beginning to stretch out from the center, and her heart swelled with blissful anticipation.


End file.
